Distracting
by MS
Summary: AU, It was completely maddening, not knowing who she was. She appeared like the foam of the sea waves at a particular time every night and then disappeared like the mist before his eyes. But now he had a chance to talk to her, but only if she stays.
1. One Room

MS

Summary: It was completely maddening, not knowing who she was. She appeared like the foam of the sea waves at a particular time every night and then disappeared like the mist before his eyes. It had taken seven days for his world to tether on an abyss as she ingrained herself into his mind and dare he say it heart. This is on Syaoran's POV but on the third person.

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**Distracting Part 1**

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It was seven days. Was he sure though? He had to ask himself as he reflected on it. It had been seven days since he had noticed her, he should be clear on that point. It was maddening.

Seven days. A week. Just a few hours of the night that would scantily cover the minutes she stayed in his mind. His eyes followed her as she moved through the shadows of the room, blending in and then not.

He shifted in his feet, nodding absently to the official speaking to him, to whom he should be paying attention to. It didn't serve to just nod to a man who could misinterpret his silence for acceptance. The man might take his silence for positive reinforcement and would probably be forced to rescue his family firm from disaster.

When had he become so dramatic? He tried to stop distracting himself. Was that even a word? How had he gotten involved in such a stupid conversation with himself? He extricated himself from the conversation, giving an excuse of one of his sisters calling forth for him. He could get away with it. This was a party for him after all.

And being the center of attention, although he could argue his sisters were the ones in the spotlight, aggravated him.

She never even looked his way. How had he known? He hadn't taken his eyes off her to not notice. He tried to blend into a shadowed pillar just as someone intruded into his study. She had been asked to dance. At least, that's what it looked like from the other side of the room.

In all seven days since he had noticed her errant wanderings around the ballrooms, he hadn't seen her respond to another person. He held his breath as she was swept into a dance. He wasn't close enough to see her reaction, but hoped that she wasn't glad.

This curiosity was interfering with his otherwise intelligence. He swore at himself for being so easily distracted. Could he even actually recognize her in another setting? He had the urge to walk to her and just stare. If he just confronted her, then he would stop weaving this imaginative spread which made her that much more fantastical than she should be.

He countered his own argument with reality. He was a grown man, he shouldn't be acting like a kid with questions that none will answer. What was so special about her that drew his gaze and attention? The first thing he did whenever he joined these affairs was look to see if she was there.

How pathetic am I? He asked himself over and over. On the part of the scale it shouldn't be, he replied to his thoughts as she resumed her usual skulking. Skulking, now that was a word, he let it roll off his tongue. It's these describing words for her actions that was actually keeping him interested.

Neither his mother nor his sisters had pointed her out to him, which made him think of what issue could there be for a seemingly unattached female to not be regaled with virtues or his attention. His family was trying to marry him off.

He slipped further back into a doorway as said mother was looking around the room with a very distinct light in her eyes, her face predatory. He knew without a doubt that she was looking for him and therefore preparing an ambush of eligible ladies to take his time for the remainder of the night.

He'd rather not. He took a second to locate himself in accordance to the room's specifications. He was suddenly very tired and irksome to play this game of cat and mouse in which he usually played the rodent who was being passed around the felines of the room. He was probably going to burn in hell for liking all of his female relatives to predatory cats who wanted to sink their claws into his hide so that he would bow to their whims.

"Definitely going to burn in hell," he murmured to himself when the image appeared too clearly in his mind. He rubbed his temples, slipping through the open door. It was his own house and he wanted some peace and quiet. The thought of going to bed and slipping into the dream world away from numbers and family.

He spared no thought to the slip of a woman that was forgotten on the other room.

It only lasted for five minutes before he realized that she was occupying his office. He almost threw away his tray of sandwiches as he'd planned to barricade himself in the office in which no sound would permeate through the very heavy oak doors.

Had she sought solitude or was there something more nefarious going on? Nefarious, another word that just popped into his head. His vocabulary was driving him crazy. He had planned to close the door as soon as he walked into the room, minimizing the chances of someone stumbling in there looking for him, namely his mother, but it seemed there was another higher power that would push him through.

What was she doing here? Was she also seeking solitude? Why had she chosen this particular room? She was facing the bookcases, which weren't extensibe as his library, but did contian a high number of tomes. Mainly they dealt with the usual philosophical and mathematical with industrious background.

She leaned into a particular volume, stroking the length of the exposed cover as her slender fingers reached for it and slid it away from its hold. Should he make a sound? He watched her flip through a particular part of the book, a whim in choosing to which page she wanted to navigate towards to. She simply smiled, her attention on the page while Syaoran struggled with whatever it was that he wanted to do.

His arms hurt, bringing his attention back to the tray full of food that he had swiped from the kitchen. There was a very large number of sandwiches which tipped the tea kettle on the other side. His arms were protesting the weight that he continuously kept with the tray.

He made up his mind to place it on the table, which meant moving and disrupting her. She was the intruder after all. She moved away, which made him stop, walking to one of the chairs, the one that looked most comfortable, and sat down. She tucked her feet on the side, her dress bouncing around her as she seemed to pet an undisclosed friend.

She bit her lip, closing her eyes and covering her face in a pained expression. It was only a few minutes, but it was enough for him to realize that she seemed to be mourning. She was now more than an image that had followed him through for the past week unknowingly.

He wasn't sure if she was crying, and just stood there, watching her. She startled as she felt a hand go forth with a handkerchief, her green eyes widening as she followed the hand to the one that offered it. He stopped his grimace from showing as she was uncertain whether to accept his handkerchief or not.

He moved away, leaving her to her choice, moving to his own chair behind the desk and in which he felt protected. The color of her eyes fresh in his mind as he busied himself with pouring tea on the cup he'd brought. He left it sitting there as he decided to leave the room in search of another cup. It was just an excuse.

Would she choose to flee the room, or stay? He would leave it in her hands. He could live with either scenario. But would his body survive the torment of his indecision?

He took more time than was necessary, gripping the cup and saucer as he pushed open the door he'd closed behind him. His mind was a jumble of thoughts that revolved on one thing, had she stayed?


	2. In Retrospect

MS

Summary: It was completely maddening, not knowing who she was. She appeared like the foam of the sea waves at a particular time every night and then disappeared like the mist before his eyes. It had taken seven days for his world to tether on an abyss as she ingrained herself into his mind and dare he say it heart. This is on Syaoran's POV but on the third person, and then shifting to Sakura, who I never mention by name. It's going to be back and forth on this part and then finally dialogue taking over on the coming part. I'm sorry for any confusion.

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**Distracting Part 2**

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In retrospect, this had been a very demanding aspect of her personality. She heard him depart, which made her wonder if he expected her to be gone by the time he returned. She saw the poured tea, the cup beckoning, which might translate to a silent invitation for her to remain.

Should she act like a missive girl, who stuttered and was compliant to her elders and the male gender? She was out of her element, if she was going to be true to herself in this aspect of society. What was she doing here?

Maybe a more important question for her would be, who the hell was he? She had slipped, albeit in her mind, to swearing. It was informal, and a habit she was not going to break easily. She was trying her best in this place she really didn't want to be, she didn't feel welcome, and taking great pleasure in her slipping away from her overseer.

He returned just a few minutes later, coming right against her direct gaze. He did not show any type of reaction to her presence in the room. He walked straight to the desk, pausing over the still poured cup that had remained untouched. She observed him, riveted over waiting to see what he would do next. He was very familiar in his actions, as if he did this every day. That posed a deeper question of who she was spending countless minutes in company with.

He wasn't surprised. Was there really a way to describe how he felt when he saw her still seated in the same position when he returned? Could he saw that he was elated, his curiosity lifted, as if a bit of his questions about her had been answered in her impassive face as she had waited for his return. He could have just not returned, he reflected, but it had not occurred to him until that precise moment that he could also play a part in the decision to whether give into this chance meeting.

She had not stopped looking at him. Her directness surprised him. No one, except when it pertained to money and business had ever kept such a close observation on him. It was unnerving, since he had refrained from doing the same. He looked straight at her, reciprocating it, which created more questions instead of eluding to answers.

She didn't seem to mind as her eyes remained locked on him.

There was a fluttering. She didn't know if it was embarrassment, as she fought to keep her face from reddening as he observed her in kind. Or maybe it was just the fact that she could finally see himi clearly. When he'd offered the handkerchief, he'd slipped away rather quickly, with just a flash of his face. She hadn't thought of watch him as he'd retreated to the door, but his return had opened one of her vices. She was a very curious person.

She was also outgoing, but she felt restrained in this setting. She didn't like feeling unfamiliar in a particular place in which she had to act like who she was not. Staying in the room was keeping more with her personality than actually slipping away from the party.

She'd felt skittish when she had been asked to dance earlier. She hadn't felt comfortable, as if being in display. She'd excused herself as fast as possible in the end, with the need to move away from all the strangers. That was unlike herself.

Syaoran moved to her chair, bringing the tray with him. Hospitality was ingrained in him with good manners. The second reason why he had left was in anticipation of sharing his bounty with the woman that was now completely ingrained in his brain. He was not inclined to speak. He felt no need to as he poured the tea onto the new cup he'd brought, placing it before her and drank the lukewarm one he'd left before. He really had no preference, but the lukewarm tea really didn't taste good.

She thanked him, her voice low and restrained, a light color finally appearing in her cheeks. He smiled, taking a sip and finally getting into one of the sandwiches. He was glad he'd taken a lot of them, as he now didn't have to think of sending for more while he entertained his unknown guest.

She didn't feel inclined to speak, just observe and enjoy the silence. She had to appreciate the fact that she had these cucumber sandwiches and the tea to accompany it, as it gave her a peace of mind to enjoy good food instead of wondering what other people thought of her eating habits.

She didn't feel conscious in this room.

Syaoran ate bit by bit, his stomach feeling empty and full each time that their gazes connected. Their hands almost touched as they reached at the same time, which only made both smile at one another before choosing different ones to bring back. They were hesitant to bite into it, which brought a moment shared of hesitation, before they complied in not letting food go to waste.

"Would you like another one?" this could be considered the first sentence truly spoken between them, as he eyed the place and its covering. In trying to preserve them somewhat warm, he would have to cover it. She shook her head, thanking him for the offer.

"Could you pour me another cup of tea?" she requested, her voice filling in the silence that had appropriated the room once more.

"Feel free," he offered as he once again stood, to sit himself by the desk. He was going to follow through with his original intention of getting some work done while the celebration continued in full swing.

Should he feel bad that he was spending what was his birthday celebration in his study with a complete stranger? He didn't dwell on that thought too much before discarding it and opening the files that had been left there earlier in the day. His mother would be put out over not finding him, but he was sure that when his presence was truly required, someone would be sent to scour the whole house for him.

He gave her covert glances every once in awhile, seeing her pick up the earlier book she had been looking at when he'd arrived. It seemed intrusive to ask her a question when she was completely immersed in the literature. He knew the book, had read it in fact, and wondered if she would share her thoughts on it.

Did he truly get any work done? It was inevitable that he would turn the page after spending endless minutes rereading the same passages when he kept his main focus on her. It was easy to watch her in silence, in retrospect of familiarity instead of coveting in a room full of people.

It was easier to get pulled in. While her face remained skewed towards the book, he could perfectly see the way her bangs fell in disarray over her oval face, caressing her skin while conforming quite easily to her posture.

She had short hair. That said a lot about her. The fashion had gone back into long hair with elaborate hairstyles. A simple bun would not do to impress and show the meticulous side of fashion that had slipped back into ballroom dresses of the English dynasty. That's how she had stood out to him the first day, her dress had been a simple slim pastel which called no attention to her whatsoever in more than the simple loop. It had been a simple corset style that flowed as a skirt beneath her breasts, not wanting to reveal the shape that laid beneath.

Today she was more obliging. The corset style was still present, only coming all the way to her hips, the skirt overflowing with ruffles inside. He'd been shopping enough with his sisters to know the numbers of underskirts that lay beneath, which gave it that bell shaped quality. If he hadn't seen her, he would not be able to discern that she'd folder her legs beneath her in a more comfortable position. There was the need to be comfortable, instead of rigid in company. He liked that about her.

Without sharing a word with her, he knew that she liked herself. She had an inability to function while in the huge group of strangers outside, but in this haven, she didn't care for who accompanied her. He leaned forward when he saw her do it again. She had reached again for something that wasn't there.

* * *

Thank you for reading guys... to answer one of the questions, this is definitely going to take place in this one night. I have an idea for a follow up, with a title and everything for whenever I finish this which is just one or two more parts and then closed. As for Sugar Daddy, I'm trying desperately to overcome one scene that will take me to the rest and then there's the epilogue. I've been reading a lot lately for school and pleasure which is why I haven't been writing much. I really don't like leaving things unfinished though, so don't despair, every open story that I have will be finished eventually. Hopefully not too long down the road, I just need inspiration to strike me at the right moment.


	3. Conversing

MS

AN: It took me awhile to write this as I had to recover my laptop. I lost the program in which I saved all of my stories into and it's going to take me awhile to get into Microsoft Works again, as well as converting all the documents as it is a huge pain in the butt.

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**Distracting Part 3**

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"Have you read this book?" she asked him, pausing from the action to dwell deeper into the meaning of the words. She hadn't noticed at all his intent observation of each of her reactions as she poured over each word. He had been entranced earlier by her tentative fingering of the spine, which was now tightly gripping the sides as she sometimes followed the lines on the text with the same fingers.

That first hour had been in complete silence. She was the first to start a conversation. She stood up from her seat, bringing the tray to the desk. "I don't want to keep all of these for myself," she smiled at him as she motioned for taking a chair and moving closer to the desk.

He just nodded to her, wondering why he felt the need to act like a gentleman and bring the chair closer himself. He had the thought that she would not allow it. She would most likely scoff and laugh. How could he know? There was nothing but assumption on his part on her character. How people act with one another is very different from how they are true to themselves or friends. He was portraying a different persona of his life at this moment. He was the businessman who had to understand the contracts whose livelihoods depended on just a scrawl of his hand.

She sat differently now. She would be playing the part of the rightly taught young lady who sat perfectly straight and prim while on the presence of another adult. It was contrasted with her earlier comfortable leaning while reading, burrowing onto it as if seeking warmth. He let go of the papers, focusing on the guest that had taken all of his in adverted attention for longer than he could actually put a time constriction on. "If I keep these close by myself I'm going to eat them all and then I'll feel bad."

"I could ring for more," he offered. "Or I could just go to the kitchen for more. I'm sure I could keep away from the rest of the guests and the cook."

"I wondered if it had been too much trouble for you to get the first batch in the first place," she inquired. Her curiosity would not be put off much longer. It wasn't much in the fact that she wanted to know who he was, but how he was. She was curious of him, the man that had just kept the silence she'd felt she'd needed.

He grinned, the first one she could say she was truly the sole recipient of. She saw the glimmer of teeth. Teeth that were impeccable and spoke of great care. Appearances were all in this particular aspect of life they were driven to portray. He was impeccably dressed, like the other men that had attended the party in a full suit and definite power and position to fill it as if it was a second skin.

Was there an attraction? She could ask this of herself over and over at different times. She wasn't too well versed in this particular aspect of relationships between adults. But, she felt like speaking of this aloud. He was a stranger, and that in itself gave her a safety net of being truthful. There was nothing else between them but a refreshment and sandwiches that were rather addicting. "I didn't actually see these out there when I was circulating the room," she pointed out to him in bringing the conversation to start. She saw from his expression that he would welcome conversation.

"I was able to bribe one of the cooks of the house to prepare them for me," he came forth to the tray. "It's a very easy snack to prepare which I know was going to be better than any of the higher fare circulating the party room."

"You're familiar with this house, aren't you?" she was still rather tentative to get personal. But, she wanted to know his name.

"I am."

"What's your name?" she asked him, waiting to fixate on a personal aspect.

"Syaoran," there was no hesitation. "Sometimes others call me Li."

"Which one do you prefer?" she asked him, wondering which one was impersonal in his mind. Which one would he let her use ?

"Syaoran is my first name," he watched her mutter his name, her lips moving in the well known syllables, waiting for her voice to ring with it.

"Syaoran," he smiled in return as she reciprocated. She leaned towards the desk, resting an arm on the surface and getting more personal. "I'm Sakura, Kinomoto Sakura," she was used to presenting herself with her full name. It wasn't recognizable and it was how she had personalized herself for the past twenty years of her life.

"Well Sakura, are we going to need more hardier fare, or do you think that this will be able to keep for us for awhile."

"I think it'll all depend on one thing," she took one of the sandwiches and bit into it while he waited for her to continue her thought. "It's going to be depending on how long we might be

here."

"Well, you're welcome to stay here for as long as you want. I understand the need to hide from being in display out there." That small concession had given her a glimpse of his personality. She was trying to place him in other places that she had been. She couldn't do so.

"Have you seen me in other functions before?" she wanted to know if she had come to his attention before this night. "I somewhat feel right now that you've seen me before."

"Sakura," he spoke her name, as if trying it out and see what inflexion he was allowed to use. "I have to confess something. I was definitely surprised when I found you here in this room tonight, but I had seen you before."

Why didn't you ask me to dance? To talk? To speak? She wanted to know. There had been a lot of small talk to use in the past few weeks since she'd been involved in these social partings, but she wanted to know what had been going through his mind when he saw her.

"I wondered who you were," he was obliging her inward quest. "You were always slinking through the shadows, as if hoping that no one noticed you."

She laughed at how appropriate his description of her skulking was. "I'm not used to these types of things. I don't know anyone here with whom I can associate and enjoy," she could feel a light flush coming to her cheeks.

"I had to wonder if there was something or someone that you were looking for."

"There was no one," she felt breathless. There was a direct conversation but at the same time an indirect line of questioning. She felt like having a drink, one of the champagne glasses she had refused to take again and again so that she would feel less constrained to speak freely. Being giddy would definitely make her feel wonderful.

There was warmth in his smile and eyes as he refused to look away from her. Maybe now I can gravitate to you, she wanted to say to him verbally, but only let her glittering eyes with anticipation, her breathless opening of her lips, the color rapidly rising in her cheeks impart that personal thought that would break her to speak aloud.

Her thoughts were reciprocated. She didn't really need for him to speak to understand that he would serve as her companion. For whatever reason.

"Sakura," her name was spoken in a lower tone, as if drawing her in. "Tell me about yourself," he saw her blink as if she wanted to ask him for something specific in which to start. "Your family, your friends, who you are compared to the woman hiding in the shadows of the columns."

She was taken in by his complete attention on her words. She started speaking of herself and how she came to be. It was very easy to forget that she didn't personally know anything about this man who was solely focused on her and speak of her life.

He was rather amused with her retelling of her first memory, her tongue in her cheek as if she was going to start a biblical tale of great importance. Her being punished for being a precocious child in the kitchen in which she had taken the blame for something her older brother had incited and participated in.

"You two have a very close relationship, right?" he was going to address the love he heard in her voice with the affection of a sibling that was very close.

"He was and is my closest friend. We spent most of our time together and we still adore being around one another. He's a bit overprotective you could say, but our lives are definitely parting ways at this moment."

"My father is an archeologist, and my brother has developed a flare for it. It had been years since my father has gone on a dig and my mother serves as his assistant with my brother as a subordinate. He kept groaning that he was going to be doing the grunt work. My dad replied that said grunt work is what brings the wonder to the career."

"That's a very appreciative mode of thinking," Syaoran could understand the need to feel the dirt in your hands whenever you actually found something. The need to feel that something is completely yours in a find. "I'll tell you a very dark secret about myself," he liked to see the anticipation in her eyes as she came even closer as if waiting for him to whisper it to her ear. "I like to sculpt."

He saw the shine coming to her eyes, lighting up her whole face, signaling her complete attention. He wondered if it was just her way of holding back the laughter that his cousin Meiling couldn't hold back when she'd found out. "I look like a very steadfast man of business who has numbers in his mind, but I also like to give form to a piece of clay that is undefined." It was a sore point to him that even his closest childhood friend had found it completely unbelievable that he had an artful side to his ruthless business persona.

"It's your way of concentrating, of getting creative, or letting off steam," she knew this was important. "I'm not that creative as I usually just read to let my head clear of the rest of the world. That's one of my deficiencies according to my extensive family. I live in world of books without exposure to the real world."

"What is real to you?"

"The fact that I love to run the grounds with my dogs. There's nothing like the feel of the wind on your face, the dews of the morning striking you lightly as you run. That I can study the works of the greatest writers in our history with just a warm fire to accompany me and the soft yawning of the world as it slips away. Of course that means not having preoccupation as to where our lives come from as my grandfather keeps pointing out to me lately."

"You mentioned the dogs first?" He was smiling at her raised brow at what he decided to focus on.

"I really don't have a preference in the question of cat and dogs, don't get me wrong, but my father has always gravitated towards the later and that's what we've had in our family." She named each and every one she had in possession ever since she could remember. "We recently lost one of our dogs. She was my closest companion since I was little."

He could see as if she was restraining herself from moving. "Is that why you were petting a spot that wasn't there tonight while reading?"

She was startled over his low inquiry. Had she done it again today? She felt her eyes glistening, in a motion she could not control. "Kira would always lay by my side, against my legs, sleeping while I read." She was rather embarrassed to have revealed so much with just a mindless gesture. "It's only been two weeks since she died. I had just taken her outside for a night walk so she could do her business in the huge yard like a regular dog, and it really irks my grandfather whenever I did, and we wound up running a couple of the trails behind their house. She was exhilarated, her tongue lolling on her side, barking at the stars and stray animals that snuck into the closed property, and then she just stopped for a breath, laid on her side and just dropped. I'd never been so scared before in my life."

She tried to smile after a few minutes of sobbing. "I'm such a ninny to cry like this right now. In front of you. I thought I'd cried all the tears that were left in me." She shied away from his gaze, more than embarrassed by her show of emotion. Still, recounting the events still made her ache for the loss she had suffered alone, and unexpectedly. "I was the one to cause it. I don't know in the end if it was a heart attack for her if I had pushed her too hard, and she'd just stopped breathing."

"She was more than just a pet to you, like the other dogs," his tone was soothing.

"She was my only friend," she giggled helplessly at her choice of words, but knowing that he would hear the truth to them. "I'm somewhat awkward with other people, as there weren't many children around our house unless it was the summer. I had my parents, who are one of the most loving ones you could ever find, and of course my brother, but they're family. She was my only connection left of them all now that I've stayed here. I wish I could have kept a piece of her with me. One of her puppies instead of giving them away, but I never thought truly of the time when she would leave me behind."

"Why didn't you go with your family to your father's dig Sakura?"

"I was never much into archeology," she could definitely get into the change of subject which would redirect it little by little to this, but in a smaller scale. She could appreciate that. "I love my family, but I also wanted to fulfill my great grandfather's wish and this seemed to be the perfect opportunity."

"This is probably going to sound rather badly, but I've been wondering," he seemed to be asking permission to speak whatever he deemed so impertinent. "What are you doing here? Not in this room, but in this party."

"Do I seem so out of place?" she was lightly playing with his words, liking the fact that he seemed more than just a tad embarrassed by her response to his inquiry. She couldn't blame him though. "Do I appear so different from all those others out there?" she motioned with her hand to that place outside of the closed door that was completely cut away from their private discussion.

She didn't need to allude to her cropped hair, stylized as it was, definitely too short from the norm of the current styles. Her dress too simple from the gaudy style she cringed at whenever her grandmother tried to push her into trying. Although, maybe she just hadn't found the style that she could feel comfortable in.

"Being different is sometimes better than follow the norm," she smiled sheepishly up at him, accepting a last pour of tea. "If we keep going at this we're going to have to brave the masses for the bathroom."

"Or we could just slip away to a more private one. This mansion has more than just the first floor for amenities," he replied, slipping a hand for the last sandwich like an errant boy that was snatching it away from the shouting cook.

"I would think so," she turned her head slightly, sipping her cup as she thought of how to come into the conversation. "Would you mind if I asked you an impertinent question?"

"Would it be fair?" he leaned against his elbow to mimic her current stance against the hard desk. "You haven't exactly answered my own."

"Touché," she whispered to herself, wondering if manners really had anything to do with this conversation. "Well, I really don't know the people of this house personally, do you?" she was going to be direct. "We can answer back and forth."

"I do," he enigmatically replied, hiding his smile behind another sip.

"You really didn't seem away from your element behind this desk," she was going to fish until her curiosity was assuaged. "You really didn't seem that surprised to find me here either."

_I was blown away_, he would keep this thought to himself though. "I should probably tell you that I had noticed you in other functions before. You were the only person trying to hide in the shadows, skulking away behind the pillars," he smirked at a particular accident she'd had with one of the guests.

The deer caught in the headlights, that expression could definitely describe her reaction to his words. She gasped, her eyes widening to immense proportions as her lips lightly parted in more than surprise. He didn't even breathe as she took in his words, her eyes searching his face randomly. "You caught me at a very embarrassing moment," she was completely red, blotches of warm spreading to her throat.

"He had it coming, I wasn't the only one that was laughing and silently thanking you from shutting his mouth," he wanted to do away with her insecurity which had spoiled the moment. He really hadn't meant to do that.

"I've actually been trying to stay out of anyone's radar since it happened," she still cringed as she remembered just how she'd been able to tip one of the running politicians into a playful grotto that had been built for ambience.

"I'm thinking that a lot of people would shake your hand instead of berating you for it," Syaoran grinned at her blooming smile. She now only held a slight pink tint to her cheeks, giving her a healthy and happy glow.

He was more than attracted. He had to tell himself the truth of the matter. He was infatuated with her smile. He couldn't get enough of it. This conversation was not even scratching the surface of what he wanted to know. He didn't even know what he really wanted to ask as they proceeded to continue the conversation onto the festivities.

"Do you know what this party is for?" he asked her, keeping his expression closed.

"My grandmother said it was for a birthday celebration," she was going to continue but closed her mouth as a discreet knock interrupted before the door was open.

"Ah, here you are," Sakura blinked at the person who entered the room in measured steps. She wondered if she had wandered into a British play with the impeccable butler. She looked at Syaoran momentarily, seeing recognition in between both men and her as the intruder. The feeling of being out of place overtook her once again, the warmth of their privacy taken.

"So this is were you ran to," the elderly man offered a benign smile to the young woman who primly sat before his master. The master who had withdrawn once again from the laughing boy he had taken care of all these years.

"I should go," Sakura stood from her seat, not willing to get in their way.

"Do not leave on my account," Wei suppressed his body from keeping her in place, seeing the flash of desperation that had come over Syaoran when she'd stood. "I was just making sure things were as they were."

Sakura just looked from him to Syaoran, a confused expression easily readable on her face as she kept herself from asking anything in the process. "Would you like me to replenish the refreshments? It would seem that you have skipped the meal that was prepared exclusively for this evening," she could definitely hear the disapproval in his tone as he seemed to chastise Syaoran. She didn't think any of this was directed at her.

"How much longer?" there didn't seem to be any need to elaborate while speaking between them as the man seemed to understand what he meant perfectly.

"Thirty minutes," he accepted the tray from her hands. Sakura had felt the need to do something as she had remained standing, feeling placated as he graciously accepted it from her. "We can't afford any more than that. Thank you ma'am."

He waited, which made her shift uncomfortably. Syaoran cleared his throat as if he'd just been reminded of his manners. "This is Sakura Kinomoto, a guest tonight."

"It is a pleasure to meet you," Wei smiled gently to her. "I am Wei Li, the caretaker of this monstrous mausoleum."

"You are the only one that can say those words and not get flayed alive in this house," Syaoran chuckled at his butler's cheek.

"Li?" she looked pointedly between the two men. "Are you guys related then?"

"In a way," Wei was quite comfortable in supplying more if he was asked, his expression open to any inquiry.

"This is the man that raised me as a father, an uncle, a grandfather, a butler," he conceded the last point. "But never lets me forget the fact that he's seen my bare bottom since I was a infant to take away any type of power in my arguments against me."

"One must use all of our weapons in our arsenals if we must win an argument," Wei inclined his head at his charge's playful tone. He was relaxed, flexible in a way he hadn't seen in various months.

"I feel like there's a joke I'm out of right now," Sakura sighted quite theatrically, feeling the change in the atmosphere from their interruption. "Syaoran is quite agile with his words though, so I think trying any advantage is not something to blame you for."

"Alas, somewhat who understands," he bowed out quite comfortably while holding the items securely in his hands. "I'll see if I can convince Karen to slip a couple of sweets away from the main table unobtrusively."

They were left alone again, with no barriers in between. Sakura sat down, feeling impatient and a bit silly. "You're associated with this house then," she didn't need to ask as much as confirm with her statement. "We were interrupted, as I was saying, I know the reason for this party, but not really why I was invited."

"All of the acquaintances are invited to this birthday party every year," Syaoran supplied. "This is the event of the season for Lady Yelan," there seemed to be a bit of criticism in his tone. "It would be quite scandalous if this date was to pass after all this time without such a fuss being made."

"You sound disheartened by that," it was an insight into his personal space, she could understand that much.

"It's a farce," his tone was strong, infused with disgust. He'd turned his seat towards the window, watching the flickers of light that permeated through the struggling leaves of the trees that played with the night wind. She shivered at the image that had flowed through her mind's eye at that moment, reflecting on his stance. He was lost in his own thoughts.

* * *

One more part and I'm done. Obviously I'll be awaiting Parting. Hope you liked the conversation.

MS

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	4. Revealing

MS

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the CCS characters.

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**Distracting **

_Part 4 : Revealing _

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The intrusion was inevitable.

They had received some amenities from Wei in a few minutes, relaxing to their conversation. They managed to speak of everything and nothing at all. Smiling gently, and guffawing at their own insecurities. Sakura had decided to tell him the whole sordid tale behind her parent's romance, which had him pointing out that it had not been sordid at all, using her own words. She confided in him that she used the word to make it sound more dramatic than it needed to add more romanticism to the tale.

"You're so…" he struggled to find the right word to describe what he was thinking.

"Flighty?" she supplied, smiling as he seemed to mull over the word and decide against it. "Well, that was all I could think of."

"Really?" he raised a brow, smirking in return. Sakura felt blindsided by the appearance of a dimple on his right cheek. She felt mesmerized by how perfect he looked, itching to have a camera nearby and have captured it.

Syaoran cleared his throat, feeling overwhelmed by the fact that she had just seemingly zoned out while staring at him. He decided not to tease her about it, hiding the satisfied smile that was trying to burst forth from him over it. He felt that he could dare anything. But would he? Time was drawing near.

He hadn't completely dared do this, but there was almost no time left before he had to return to complete his obligatory rounds for the night. "Sakura," she looked up from the desk to him, sensing a bit of urgency, thinking of the cryptic thirty minutes reply Wei had given him before.

"I have to go now," he smiled at her while he stood from his seat. He rounded the desk and walked to the table she had left the book on. He took it with him and extended it to her. She waited for him to explain, only to get no question dealing with the book whatsoever. But she had so many of her own she could only shout in her mind with great urgency as she felt him pull further away. Where are you going? Who are you? Can't you stay? Take me with you. The last was cried out rather sharply into her heart as it galloped against her breast in anticipation and at the same time expecting refusal.

"Do you drive?" Syaoran felt like his tie was strangling him, his voice hoarse. He couldn't even understand his own mind as if already formulated a new plan to follow. He'd caught a flash of regret on her eyes as he'd walked away, only to apprehensively wait as he returned with the object in his hand. It wasn't logical how it seemed that she had so much influence on him.

She wanted to run her hand through his hair, disbarring the perfect locks from their place and disrupt his image. She didn't know why she wanted to do such a thing, but maybe this way she would be able to leave a mark and he wouldn't forget about her, couldn't keep her out of his mind even if just for a few minutes before they had to return to those who awaited them beyond that door.

"I was somewhat taught by my brother, but how could I describe it, rudimentary," she felt rather shamed of such a thing. She didn't know what was the right answer. To admit to know how to drive in their world would mean that she didn't expect to be driven anywhere, a profession that bestowed status onto the rich who ordered others to do their bidding. To say that you didn't would also reflect on the flight for freedom she denied to wish for. "Why?"

"I would like to invite you for a drive," he finally posed a request, his eyes lingering on her hands as they gripped the small book. "Would you mind?" He hadn't meant to say the last aloud, opening the request further and unequivocally asking for her feelings.

"Syaoran," she stood from her own seat, smiling in invitation as she returned the book to his hands. "I would love to."

"I'm sure I'll be able to bribe someone in the kitchen to supply the fare for us," he didn't feel as confident as he tried to sound.

"I could bring something instead," she offered, straining against her closed throat that refused to obey most of her signals to let her speak confidently.

"Can you cook?" his question paused her.

"Do you mean just generally or specifically?"

"Generally," he decided to go with that particular description.

"I'm a good cook," she boasted. "Although that's by my family's standard, so they may have been trying to be kind."

"Then I'll drive and you'll supply the food, so it's an even exchange between us. You can then tell me what you thought of the book and its philosophical inquiries," he teased her, his hand bringing a pen from the inside of his jacket. Rather easily he wrote a phone number on the first page.

"Sakura Kinomoto," he extended a hand, she took it without much fuss. "It was a pleasure to make your personal acquaintance," he surprised her, slipping her hand upwards and giving a most proper kiss.

She beamed at him, a tingling sensation making its way from her fingers as his lips brushed against them and touched her chest. How it traveled, or what it was, she didn't understand.

She waited patiently as he slipped away, but not before getting her to promise to call him soon so they would set the date. "Are there promises?" she asked herself, listening to the absence of sound from the door he had left ajar for her. She had to go do her duty to the party. She absently made her way to the ballroom, the book carefully tucked under her arm and her unemotional face put forth for the throng.

His eyes scanned the sea of faces that lay just a step beneath him as they all waited for him to blow out the candles his mother had set ablaze for him. He was sure he would be able to find her face if he focused enough. They all looked the same to him, blurring together as he denied himself the pleasure of focusing his eyes. He wanted to believe that he would be able to feel her, which made no sense whatsoever when he thought of the facts of his tenuous relationship with her.

He had left it open completely to her. She would be the one to choose to call him or let the time pass so this night would be somewhat forgotten. He wanted to believe that he would have made a good enough impression to have her interested. He felt the pull to confirm her attention now, while he was completely bare to the world in the sphere he was building his life, expecting her to see the same man that listened to her laugh just minutes before.

He caught her hair, unturned to him as she spoke to a woman that he could guess to be the grandmother that had accompanied her. She finally turned, somewhat chastised, her eyes cast down. If he had to suppose, he would have to say that she hadn't immediately joined the room like he had, but had dragged her inevitable exit from the refuge she had embraced with him.

There was surprise in her eyes, so green and open to his stare. He wasn't trying to mask his attention to her, wondering if anyone was really paying attention to him or to the event that was more important. She drew back somewhat, thoughts and feelings flashing rather clearly over her face as she refused to look away from his search.

He was somewhat apologetic over the shock of finding him the center of attention, giving her a boyish grin as her eyes darkened over the surprise and getting somewhat peeved over his omission. She hadn't registered his name until this moment. He was more than happy, elated with her honest reaction and the smile that was breaking forth on her.

Sakura just had one point to make. He had not looked vulnerable when their eyes had connected, but more aloof and cold from those that surrounded him until he had broken into a smile. It was infectious, as she felt her own lips curl, the urge to laugh aloud brimming to the top.

He saw her lips move, quite easily making out her 'happy birthday' congratulations. It was probably all he would get as he saw her urge him with a slight nod of her head towards the blaze that still waited for the traditional blowing of the candles.

He winked at her slyly, before complying with the action they all waited as the crowd burst into cheers and applause. There was a secret, which made him more close and warmth to the kiss his mother gave him. Syaoran enfolded her into a hug which he sensed surprised her. There was a closeness that he'd been avoiding with the passing of years and the maturity of adults that should be bypassed on the celebration of the closeness of mothers and sons.

"Thank you mother," for everything that has led me to open my eyes to a new experience. To wherever it would lead. He looked down to where Sakura had been standing, to find her gone. He could see her withdrawing from the room to accept a drink for the toast. He recognized the woman she had been speaking with as she approached his family.

It wasn't hard to get a name and to easily make the connection. He was pulled away from giving the name more attention from others who wanted to personally congratulate him. This is much more their day than his. When he slipped back into his office a few hours later, the house blessedly silent and his birthday officially over, he found a scribble on top of hi folder he had closed. There had been no hesitation in her use of the blank space that served as a cover for very important papers. She had snuck back into this room after he'd been surrounded before she left.

_That was rather surprising, finding you the reason for my being present in this house tonight. You were wonderful though, being able to hide that angst you were taken over with in here. I'm not the only one with a decision here now. Sakura._ The name was flourish and curved in the exact places it should be, her number followed with large scribes which had him smiling. He liked this feeling she evoked in him. He made up his mind. He was going to be the one to call first. One day would be enough.

* * *

Here's the end of Distracting, bringing us to a close on Syaoran and his decision to like such distractions. There's a following titles A Drive. Look forward to it.

MS

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